


10 Vitally Important Rules

by fakfakfox



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, oblivious Remus, sad gay wizards, sirius pining, sirius takes his feelings out on inanimate objects
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 06:59:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4737056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakfakfox/pseuds/fakfakfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius has a system in place to avoid fucking up his friendship with Remus. It almost works.</p>
            </blockquote>





	10 Vitally Important Rules

 

Moony Moves Out. Three Rules Are Broken. 

 

 

Sirius Black threw himself onto a cheap, flimsy chair and tried desperately to shut his mind up. He stared hard at faded cup rings on Remus’ breakfast table, memorials of caffeinated drinks, greedily sacrificed at the alters of just-wanting-to-feel-like-a-fucking-human-being and aching-for-it-to-be-bedtime-again. The coffee stains remained unrelenting in their inability to distract or dissuade his overactive brain. The tea stains only added to his moony-centric thoughts, bastards that they were.

He slumped down further on the uncomfortable, too small, goddamn useless, absolute load of wank piece of furniture and began to massage his head with shaking fingers. It didn't help. Nothing ever helped and, yet again, he was treated to his own private 'don't think of a pink elephant' predicament; fucking Remus Lupin. _Fucking_ fucking Remus Lupin. Inside his head, Remus' molten-gold eyes gazed knowingly at him. “What are you doing Black?” the eyes seemed to ask. “Why can't you stop yourself from re-imagining all my innocent brotherly actions and defiling them with your filthy, disgusting, unrequited mockery of adoration? ..Whilst sitting on my own crappy chair in my own hideous kitchen? For shame.”

He was stirred from his glorious torment by the sound of the kitchen door being forced open. Sod's law was in full effect that evening, as Remus himself squeezed himself into his (soon to be ex-) kitchen and sauntered over to Sirius and his bastard chair. Remus leaned against a pile of moving-out boxes and smiled happily at his friend. He looked flushed, Sirius noted with growing apprehension, flushed, rumpled and achingly gorgeous. _Fuck. Fuuuuck._

Luckily, Sirius had been coping with inconvenient un-platonic feelings for Moony for rather a long time and had, when sober and inspired, developed a coping mechanism. All embarrassing and potentially friendship ruining situations could be navigated, provided one stuck to the **10 Vitally Important Rules For Not Fucking Up Things With Remus**.

 **The first rule of the V.I.R.F.N.F.U.T.W.R. masterpiece:** Never say anything about _feelings_ without repeating it three times in your head first (to check for weirdness).

[The idea of compiling a comprehensive list of rules first occurred to Sirius whilst he was curled up in a ball, cursing the impulse which had made him voice the fact that his insides tingled with an inexplicable joy when Moony was thrashing him at chess]

“What are you thinking about Padfoot?” Remus’ voice was a gentle murmur, barely audible above the thrum of music, seeping in from the lively party in the living room.

Sirius took a few calming breaths and mentally shouted guidance at himself to _NOT DO ANYTHING FUCKING WEIRD PLEASE_. “It’s alright Moony, I just needed to take a break from the party. I'm drunk and being ridiculous and I honestly don't know which is worse…” _NO, NO, ABORT_ “The fact that I feel like this now or the fact that I won’t feel like this when I’m sober”

_FIRST RULE. WHAT THE FUCK?_

Remus smiled his most Remus-like smile and watched Sirius with kind, patient eyes until it became clear that Sirius wasn’t going to elaborate. Hopefully it wasn’t obvious that Sirius was mentally bollocking his disobeying, drunk vocal cords and horrible traitor mouth.

“And what exactly do you feel like, Black?” Remus asked, his voice still pitched low.

 _WHY?_ Why did alcohol have to make Remus arch and confident and utterly, utterly fuckable? Why couldn’t it turn him into a wobbly, lovesick overshare-er? Although, as Sirius’ drunkenly honest inside voice reminded him, he was lovesick with or without alcohol. _God, Remus’ lips looked obscenely soft. They needed to be kissed until they were flushed, rough and saliva-wet._

 **The second rule of the V.I.R.F.N.F.U.T.W.R. masterpiece:** Never allow a situation to occur where you are alone with Moony and talking seriously (hah) about _sexual things_.

[Added after Remus had attempted to describe what he’d walked in on Fabian Prewett doing to his boyfriend and Sirius had definitely been close to spontaneously combusting]

“Sirius?” Remus’ voice was louder and peppered with concern. His eyebrows were puckered into their favourite ‘perfectly worry’ position.

Sirius’ mind stuttered back into action. _DEFLECT THE QUESTION. DO NOT MENTION WANTING TO TRACE POETRY ONTO HIS SKIN WITH YOUR FINGERTIPS. DO NO-_

“Fuck I don’t know, Moony. I feel ridiculously free. Everything is crashing down around us and I can't think about any of that because right now all I want to do is stand in this glorious bubble of denial and dirty fantasies... for ever and ever” This time it was a lack of oxygen which halted Sirius’ honesty diarrhoea. There was a moment of peace before he realised the _RULE BREAKING FUCKERY_ which had occurred.

Sirius’ instinctive self-preservation kicked in, not a moment too soon and he flashed his friend a dirty half-smile. Hopefully the smile implied he was being predictably salacious Sirius and not being secretly-in-love-with-his-werewolf-friend Sirius. He needn’t have bothered, however, as Remus was busy subjecting his fingertips to the kind of intense scrutiny usually reserved for expensive astronomy equipment or old books.

“I wish” Remus said, smirking as if his own skin had amused him greatly. “I wish I could see these glorious, dirty fantasies. I need a good distraction myself”

Sirius stared at his friend and struggled to comprehend what on earth _that_ had meant _because…because had Remus just admitted to having a sexuality_? _Had it been simply a joke from a cocky, drunk mate? Or was the world ending already?_

All options seemed plausible. The skin at the corners of Remus’ eyes crinkled as his finger-focused smile grew wider. Sirius’ internal monologue returned to remind him _to not do anything to wipe that smile away._

_WHY WAS IT ALWAYS SWEET, INNOCENT MOONY WHO FLAUNTED THE SECOND RULE?_

“They probably wouldn’t be up my street anyway” Remus murmured. _And what did that mean? WHAT DID THAT MEAN!?_ _Did it mean that Remus was not into anything sexual? Did it mean Remus doubted he would be into whatever he thought Sirius was into? Or did it mean Remus knew?? Did he know that it was him, always? Did it repulse him that Sirius wanted to lie naked in fields with him during storms and lap rainwater from his navel?_

“Right” Sirius managed.

“Are you still alright about my moving in?” Remus asked abruptly. His face was tilted to the side and displayed no clearly distinguishable emotions. He brought his hand up tentatively and brushed some hair out of sirius’ eyes. Sirius fought the urge to grasp hold of the fingers, as they ghosted across his forehead, and bundle them towards his chest. _PLEASE DON’T TELL ME THAT YOU KNOW?_

 **The third rule of the V.I.R.F.N.F.U.T.W.R. masterpiece:** Only use ‘fake flirting’ as a last resort.

[Added after Sirius had gone a bit overboard for two glorious weeks in fourth year and James had had to step in and have _words_ ]

The situation already felt like a last resort kind of situation.

“Ahh Moony darling. Thought I was having second thoughts did you? You’re still the girl for me. I want all of it! Children, a picket fence! Your mother can move in too, if she likes?” Sirius’ voice sounded rough, but not too dissimilar to the jovial tone which always made an appearance when he was bluffing his way through stomach churning moments of moony-time.

_PLEASE JUST DON’T. DON’T TELL ME THAT YOU KNOW._

Remus shrugged his shoulders and smiled an uncertain smile. “I don’t want to be any bother. I know that I wouldn’t be able to pay you much rent. I agreed when you asked earlier because well, everybody was ready to wade in with threats and hexes if I didn’t but ah...” The werewolf paused and once again took to examining his perfect, bitten-by-Remus, luckiest-in-the-world nails.

“I do want to, Padfoot, I just think perhaps it might make it uncomfortable for you” he said at last

Sirius attempted to force his body to act as casually as possible. "Uncomhhrtle?" his mouth supplied. He rearranged his numb buttocks on the sodding-cuntweasle plastic chair and prayed to god that moony thought him to be very very drunk and not about to have a breakdown over the fact that Moony .. knew? _Knew about the 10 rules, the pathetic sexual fantasies and the even more pathetic non-sexual fantasies? God. Fuck. Shit._

“Ye-es” Remus began, examining the backs of his hands, as if he too realised the unwavering attention that his light, freckled skin deserved. “You’ll want to be bringing people home I expect? Having parties and breaking the law and continuing your longstanding tradition of being a remarkably pretty bad-boy. I feel like, as the aged uncle figure of the group.. I may be a bit of a spanner in the works. I don’t want to get in the way.”

“Pretty” Sirius said, involuntarily.                  

_REMUS WASN’T GOING TO MENTION THE PATHETIC UNREQUITED FEELINGS SITUATION. He might not know!?_

Remus rolled his eyes, before returning them to his in-depth hand analysis. In a herculean effort, Sirius’ mind abandoned the word pretty, to be picked up again at a later date when he was alone and he could replay it’s utterance obsessively as if it meant something. As if _he_ meant something.

“Look, Moony.. I’m not sure what a spooner in the wonks is but I can hazard a guess. We both know that you aren’t boring really. You’re a right little hell raiser! You just do it in such a clever, perfectly way that hell is halfway off the ground before anybody notices and when they do, well, you’re busy being innocent by a bookshelf.”

Moony arched an eyebrow, an action so _frustratingly_ sexy that Sirius had to close his eyes to figure out what it might mean. He tried again, “You’re great. You’re one of my best mates and you’re a hell of a lot of fun. You take care of all of us and I’m going to miss the crap out of you if you move back to live with your parents. I’ve spent enough time alone in my flat to last a lifetime. Please don’t go.”

Sirius abruptly realised how honest he was being. How dangerously close he was to completely shattering the very first rule of the vitally-important-for-not-fucking-up-things-with-Remus variety. He opened his eyes and quirked a dirty smile at his friend.

“You can always pay me the rent in sexual favours you know, you wolfy little minx.” Despite his best efforts to persuade them not to, his cheeks flared with heat. _OH HELL._ _THIRD RULE. THIRD GODDAMN RULE_.

“I’m very drunk” He offered. _As if moony was stupid. As if he couldn’t see crazy, in love idiots from a mile away with his inscrutable little eyes._

“Don’t be silly Padfoot, you always talk like that” _Damn it._ “Anyway, drunk or not. There are only so many times I can try and be honourable. I would love to move in.” Remus was smiling again and his voice sounded exactly how honey tasted. _Gah._

“stop being honourable moony” Sirius purred. _THIRD RULE. THIRD RULE. THIRD RULE. THIRD RULE._  

The world must have shifted. The pope must have stopped being a cat-a-holic; Hogwarts must have fallen; The fat lady must gone on a diet; his mother must have been feeling the urge to cuddle him; James Potter (braying in the next room) must have been thinking about admitting to being a git because.. for once, after an uncountable number of awkward come ons and not-really-joking confessions, moony had looked up to meet his eyes.

“I’m too drunk for this, Sirius. I need to leave now.” His eyes were dark, liquid and unreadable.

Remus had walked out of the kitchen and re-joined his own party before Sirius managed to process what had happened. He forced himself up and stood, swaying slightly but with feet fixed to the floor. _Fuck._ He spun around and kicked the chair he'd just vacated. _Oww. Fuck._

**Author's Note:**

> So, I haven’t written anything like this before. It’s not beta-ed and I’ve no idea how grammatically-or-otherwise incorrect it might be. If you’ve noticed any glaringly awful mistakes.. I hope it isn’t too much of a faux-pas if I ask that you point them out? I’m hoping that dabbling into fanfiction will help me improve my writing (as well as allowing me to smoosh two sweet, gay wizards together, of course!) xxx


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